Tugging At Her Heartstrings 2
-neutralmilk
You open your eyes. Still half asleep, your vision is partially blurry, but before long everything begins to become clear.
Small streaks of sunlight shines in through your mostly-blinded window, giving your bed the illusion that it’s glowing in your otherwise darkened bedroom. From outside the window, a bird chirps its sweet song; and although muffled, the tune resounds in your ears. You can’t help but smile lightly at the fresh feeling of morning. A few minutes of a relaxing bout of absolutely nothing pass before you begin to wonder – how late was it? Hell, what day even was it, again? Most importantly, what type of cereal was there in the kitchen?
Outside your somewhat-dirty-but-you’ll-get-to-cleaning-it-eventually apartment, the world was undoubtedly awake and in full swing. Off in Canterlot the Princesses of the Sun and the Moon had probably been hard at work for hours at this point – planning various ways to keep life in Equestria as peaceful as possible. Meanwhile, all the little colts and fillies were probably at school while their parents, brothers, sisters, etc. worked at the various shops up and down the dirt roads of beautiful Ponyville – your home for the better part of two years. And yet, while the waking world went about its business, you were still in your bed, dressed in some of the most bizarrely ill-fitting pajamas Rarity could have made. Human proportions, after-all, are still of a tricky subject for her.
Eventually, your eyes begin to scan the darkened room: a pile of dirty laundry sitting in corner of the room, a pile of clean laundry sitting in the other (or had you forgotten which was which?), various trinkets representing your new life here in Ponyville. They finally stop at a pony-shaped bump in your sheets. There, Lyra Heartstrings, your best friend turned the absolute love of your life was sleeping comfortably in what was definitely more than her fair share of the bed. The sheets rose and fell gently, dancing to an almost silent beat. You sit up and stretch haphazardly, yawning loudly, your eyes refusing to leave the sleeping mare. Slowly, carefully, you slide closer to Lyra, inching your face ever closer to her ears.
“Good morning,” you whisper softly, purposefully, playfully blowing air into her ear. Besides a slight twitch, she remains still. You decide to gently blow again into her ear. Still no movement, only a slight, annoyed groan emanating from the lump in your sheet.
“Lyra, I think it’s time we got up.” You say, a little louder this time. Her body moves slightly, inching backwards toward you. You can feel the warmth of her back pressed against your chest, her bed-head mane tickling your face with each breath she took. A smile crosses your lips as you reach your arms out to wrap them around her in an embrace.
“Touch me and I sock you.”
You freeze, arms outstretched in a half-superman pose a dumbfounded look stuck on your face. If history had proven one thing, it was that her threats were to be taken seriously. Your arms rocket back to your sides, as far away from Lyra as you can manage, given the space restrictions.
“Seriously,” you start again, risking further threats. “It’s late. It’s already past…” You search the room for the glare of your alarm clock standing out against the darkness – and fail. The memory hits you: just the month before, Bon-Bon threw the clock out. Apparently, she
wasn’t too fond of turning the alarm off every morning while Lyra and you slept through it. A quick nod justifies your decision to sleep in. Totally worth it.
A sigh escapes your lips. Unfortunately, the time for formalities had passed. It was time to go nuclear, especially with threats already uttered. “It’s half past get up or you feed yourself today.”
Almost instantaneously the musical mare turns to face you, a wide, sleepy grin on her face. “And a lovely good morning to you too, hot stuff.” She leans in and hugs you, using a free hoof to wipe sleep from her eyes. “I’ll have toast, thank you.”
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“I’m literally never sleeping through breakfast again.” Lyra states matter-of-factly, forelegs akimbo. On a floral pattern plate (Bon-Bon’s) sits a half-eaten sandwich which you, so lovingly, put together for her. “If it means no toast, that is.” The mare leans back in her chair, sitting in the human-like way you’ve grown to love. “Heck, for toast, I’d even consider the possibility of turning in early. I’d say, like midnight.”
You snort, holding back a laugh. “Hey, I said I’d make you toast! It’s not just for breakfast.”
She scoffed, her golden eyes looking at you like you had just uttered the most insane comment imaginable. “Not a chance. Lunch is no time for toast. I know it may shock you…” she pauses to let out an impressive belch. “But I’m not exactly the most hoity-toity pony. A working-class mare like myself needs a meal to get through the middle of the day.”
“Work, huh?” you take a bite out of your peanut butter sandwich. One of the few meals that translated perfectly from the human world to Equestria. “Is that where you’ve been going then?”
A concerned look crosses Lyra’s brow for what seems like a split-second then disappears without a trace. “What do you mean?” she asks, innocently.
“Well, every Thursday for, like, two months you go out for pretty much the whole day.” You interrupt yourself and take another bite of your sandwich. “Mat mmfirs-” you take a swig from the glass of milk in front of you and swish your mouth clear of the dangerously sticky peanut butter. “At first I thought you were just ‘working’ with Bon-Bon at the sweet-”
“Well, yeah, that’s it!” Lyra shoots in, at the same time reaching for your glass of milk. “Her and I need some time for just us mares.”
Realizing the battle for your glass was already lost, you step away from the kitchen table and go to grab yourself another. Nothing left in the fridge – so you settle for pouring a glass of water instead. “It’s just that she’s been on vacation now for, like, two weeks, remember?”
From behind you at the table you can hear Lyra choke on the milk that only a minute prior had belonged to you. “Uh, ummmmm,” she starts, clearing her throat. “She left me in charge while she’s gone, for sure. Bon-Bon knows I so totally care about sweets.”
“Hmmh, that’s weird.” You finally land with a thud back in your chair, watching the musical mare devour that last bit of your sandwich – hers still sitting unfinished across the table. “I thought she told me that Sweetie Belle and the other crusaders were taking over with Pinkie Pie’s help. Remember? We all went with her to get more insurance!”
Lyra opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. Silence pervaded the kitchen for what seemed like (and actually was) a few minutes. You suffered through the remains of her daffodil sandwich while Lyra sat still, her eyes just refusing to meet yours. “Is everything o-”
“Ok, so, your plans today?” she asks, stepping up from the table. The plates and glasses on the table are engulfed in a soft golden aura and fly toward the sink. The water turns on, drowning out what would be your response.
Finished with your “meal,” you step to the mare and run your fingers through her aquamarine mane. “Some more of Twilight’s tests for now. She’s still oddly fascinated as to why humans have butt-cheeks.” You chuckle quickly to yourself. “And to be honest, I guess I’m more than a little bit curious, myself.”
With Lyra’s methodical magical cleaning of the dishes mostly done, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around her. “I’ll see you later this afternoon, ok?” Your voice is soft, hoping to build a romantic mood. “Maybe we can take a walk by the pond? Go grab some dinner at Gustave’s? You know, we can make a day of it.”
She turns to face you, the last few dishes still magically washing themselves in the air behind her. A small smile sits on her lips. “It sounds like a nice evening.” Her body is warm; you feel your heart beating faster. “You really know how to turn on the charm, you know that?”
You can feel your cheeks turning red. “Well, hey, what can I say? I wouldn’t do this for just anypony.”
“I would love to join you,” she starts, her body pushing closer to yours. “But tonight’s just not going to work.”
Startled by her response, your heart sinks. “W-wait, what?”
“It’s Thursday.” Her smile slowly turns downward. “I’m busy tonight.”
Your efforts to formulate a sentence are met with confusion, leaving you silent. Not a single word can come to mind. Finally, you manage to scrounge a miserable sounding “B-b-but-”
At that, she leans forward, planting a kiss on your lips. “I love you. Now, please, go to Twilight’s. I’ll see you later tonight.”
Still in a haze of confusion, you make your way out of the front door of your apartment. Before you shut the door behind you, you look back quickly, catching a glimpse of Lyra’s golden eyes staring straight back into yours. The door shuts, leaving you feeling more alone than when you first arrived in Equestria.